Oh God, What's Wrong With Me? Why

One Minute You're Closer To Someone Than Anyone In The Whole World, Next Minute They Need Only To Say The Words 'time Apart', 'serious Talk' Or 'maybe You...' And You're Never Going To See Them Again And Will Have To Spend The Next Six Months Having Imaginary Conversations In Which They Beg To Come Back, And Bursting Into Tears At The Sight Of Their Toothbrush.

I Am A Child Of Cosmopolitan Culture, Have Been Traumatized By Supermodels And Too Many Quizzes And Know That Neither My Personality Nor My Body Is Up To It If Left To Its Own Devices. I Can't Take The Pressure.

9p.m. My Flat. Feel Very Strange And Empty. Is All Very Well Thinking Everything Is Going To Be Different When You Come Back But Then It Is All The Same. Suppose I Have To Make It Different. But What Am I Going To Do With My Life? I Know. Will Eat Some Cheese.

In Terms Of Bridget [jones] I Honestly Don't Know. One Thing I Can Say For Sure Is That All Of These Stories Have Been An Honest, Instinctive Expression Of Something I Felt Or Observed At The Time. I Would Never Cynically Think "oh That Would Sell Well Next."

I Hate Christmas. Everything Is Designed For Families, Romance, Warmth, Emotion And Presents, And If You Have No Boyfriend, No Money, Your Mother Is Going Out With A Missing Portuguese Criminal And Your Friends Don't Want To Be Your Friend Anymore, It Makes You Want To Emigrate To A Vicious Muslim Regime, Where At Least All The Women Are Treated Like Social Outcasts. Anyway, I Don't Care. I Am Going To Quietly Read A Book All Weekend And Listen To Classical Music.